


I'm in California dreaming

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Asexual Braeden, Asexual Character, Asexual Stiles Stilinski, Asexual Vernon Boyd, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stoyden and "things you said with too many miles between us?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm in California dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr post: http://kirasmalydia.tumblr.com/post/132950631154/oh-how-about-stoyden-and-things-you-said-with

_1:55AM_.

It was emblazoned on Stiles’ ceiling in big red font, courtesy of the digital clock on his nightstand. It reflected the time onto the ceiling and had been a gift from Boyd two Christmases ago; he’d teased that Stiles was too lazy to actually just roll over and look at the time.

Which wasn’t _entirely_ true...though there may be a sliver of fact in there somewhere. Stiles just wasn’t a physical kind of guy. Sure, he was a government agent, which _sounded_ seriously cool (except...he couldn’t actually tell anyone; classified information, all that jazz). He just happened to be a computer analyst, which was...less cool. 

He left the physical stuff to Boyd and Braeden. Both were the kind of spies Stiles wished he was cool enough to be like. Boyd was strong but quick on his feet and cunning in combat; he was quiet, a natural stealth spy, and clever, too. Braeden...well, Braeden was good at everything, with a _ridiculously_ good aim. 

And somehow, Stiles was lucky enough to be in a relationship with both of them. 

He’d briefly considered training to be a real spy like his partners, but just the thought of the physical training had him shuddering. Plus guns and fighting, not really his thing. The one and only time he’d had a gun pointed at his head, he’d almost cried. Nope, he was definitely more suited to the computer and science side of things.

Often, they’d go on missions together; the three of them were a unit, a team, in all aspects of their lives. Three asexual spies falling in love; Stiles was pretty sure it was destiny. Boyd and Braeden would infiltrate while Stiles stayed in the van, covering surveillance and taking care of any pesky alarms, security systems, or computer firewalls. Or he’d be in the lab, running diagnostics on evidence, rigging up their own security systems to be the best of the best, or manning their computers there. Occasionally, he got to set up the lie detector for interrogations, which was always interesting.

Sometimes, though, they’d get sent on missions without each other; solo missions. A package would arrive for one of them – mostly Boyd and Braeden; a computer analyst wasn’t often needed on field work – with a disc containing details of their mission and anything they’d need for it, whether it be a gun, a passport, fake birth certificate, or even a disguise.

It wasn’t the first time Braeden and Boyd had been sent off at the same time; Boyd tasked to go to France to meet with Interpol, taking over the handling of a rogue spy to bring him back for questioning. And Braeden to South America to intercept a drop off between an ex Russian mafia member and an American weaponry dealer selling unique weapons on the black market.

Not that Stiles was supposed to know the details of either of their missions. But they kind of told each other everything. Communication was the key in relationships...especially when all three involved were spies.

It just sucked when Stiles was home alone. Their house wasn’t anything big or flashy, but it felt empty, hollow without his partners. They’d got the biggest bed size possible for the three of them and he kept tossing and turning, unable to sleep properly on his own.

The screen on his laptop lit up. 

Video call.

He scrambled to get out of bed, legs twisting in the sheets, and he ended up faceplanting the floor. He spat out carpet fluff and crawled to the desk, dragging himself up to sit in the chair. When he looked less like someone who’d just tripped and had carpet burn on both knees, he smoothed a hand over his hair and answered the call.

Braeden’s smiling face appeared on screen.

“Hey, you.” 

“Braeden,” he relaxed as soon as he saw her. Logically, he knew he’d be informed if a mission went wrong, but still...he worried. He was a worrier, he’d be the first to admit it.

“Why weren’t you sleeping?”

Stiles glanced at one of the clocks he’d set up. 6am in Guyana. Braeden was still dressed in a camisole and her robe, dark curls tied back. She’d applied make up to the scars on her throat and Stiles could barely see them; normally, she didn’t bother, unless it compromised a cover.

“How’d you know you didn’t wake me up?” he countered.

“Baby, you look like you haven’t slept since I left.”

And he’d barely slept the couple of nights before that, struggling without Boyd’s firm body bracketing him. He rubbed at the back of his neck, shrugging.

“I’m a worrier. So sue me.”

Braeden shook her head. “It’s a simple enough job. I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll make it up to you.” Stiles perked up and she grinned. “Yes, I’ll make you chicken pepperoni.”

Stiles smiled. “I love you, you know that?”

Her smile softened. “I love you too, Stiles.”

“So how’s the job going?”

“Good. I bugged the target’s room. I spent last night listening to him and the hotel’s bartender.” 

“Lucky you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I just can’t wait to be home.” She suddenly paused, gaze flicking to her surveillance feed on another laptop. “I’ve got to go.”

Stiles watched as she got to her feet, grabbing a gun, but she paused last second, turning to blow a kiss at the camera.

“Love you,” she said.

“Go kick ass, babe,” he replied.

And the call ended.

Stiles closed his eyes, doing his usual prayer that she would be okay, that they both would. He closed his laptop and crawled back into bed with a sigh. He consulted his other clock; 11:15am in Paris.

He sent a message to Boyd.

_I love you_.

It was uncanny. For all Stiles knew, Boyd could be zip lining between buildings, in the middle of a fight with three armed guards, or breaking into a vault...and yet, whenever Stiles texted, he always got a reply within ten minutes. It never failed to make him feel warm and loved.

_Love you too. I’ll be home soon_.

Stiles smiled and set his phone aside. This time, when he closed his eyes, he drifted asleep easily, secure in the knowledge that his two loves were safe and would be home soon.

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com - come say hi? :)


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